


Sanctum

by storm_of_sharp_things



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Art, Fluff, Gen, Refuge, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:55:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28710063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_of_sharp_things/pseuds/storm_of_sharp_things
Summary: There are things best kept hidden, even if Q must come up with more and more distractions.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 29





	Sanctum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrKsan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrKsan/gifts).



> Happy (late) birthday, Ksan!

Q glanced up as M walked into his department. Mallory gave him the slightest of surreptitious nods before starting a round of casual inspections and Q rose from his desk to begin briskly ordering his minions about on various errands, creating confusion and distraction. When he glanced around again, M was nowhere in sight and Q let a faint smile of satisfaction flicker across his face as he settled back to work.

An hour or so later, a tiny discreet light at the corner of his office ceiling blinked and he typed a command on his laptop that had the department’s lights flickeringominously. As people saved their work frantically, fearing a power outage, no one paid attention to the head of MI6 slipping past and out of Q branch.

At least, Q hoped no one noticed. He kept his eye on Grisham, a fairly new hire that had been pushed on them by HR. Q suspected he was there because of heavy political influence, an amateur spy planted in their midst to report back to some power-mongering politician. Through his branch cameras, he saw Grisham glance around quickly and make some notes on his cellphone. Actual notes! On a MI6-wifi connected cellphone! Q refrained from shaking his head and went back to work.

Tanner strode in that afternoon, making a beeline for Q’s office and closing the door behind him. “Just got word from the construction crew. It’s going to take them two more days to finish repairing the hallway by the executive offices.”

Q sighed. “I don’t know if I’ve got two more days of distraction in me, Bill. I don’t employ dim-witted idiots.”

Tanner gave him a charming smile. “We believe in you, quartermaster.”

“I suppose you want access now?” Q asked with a severe look.

“I trust it’s not too much trouble,” Tanner cajoled.

“Oh no, not at all,” Q replied with what he considered admirably restrained sarcasm and remotely triggered an experimental drone in the work area. The flying machine caused brief havoc as it rose unevenly, scattering minions. Tanner grinned and made his move, covered by the hubbub.

Q tried to turn his attention back to his database, knowing Tanner would be out of touch for at least a couple of hours. As he ran a hand through his hair, he wondered if he needed to come up with a (mostly) harmless computer virus. A fire drill seemed a bit over the top, except as a last-ditch effort, but he was running low on ideas.

The next day, Mallory took the opportunity to come by during lunch, when almost everyone was outside for their break, enjoying the rare sunny winter day.

Q nodded him toward the hidden door, then caught a flicker of movement on his camera system. Mallory paused when Q gave an exasperated huff and turned toward the department entrance expectantly.

Grisham peeked around the doorframe, no doubt thinking he was being sneaky, and squeaked slightly when he found both men staring at him.

“Did you forget something, Grisham?” Q was striving for a neutral tone. The tucked-up corner of Mallory’s mouth told him he’d failed. “Thought you were all headed to the Pret for lunch?”

“...sunglasses! Forgot my sunglasses!” The nervous young tech scurried to his desk and sorted through a couple drawers. “Um. Not here! Well...”

“I should just squint, if I were you,” Q told him. “Otherwise you’ll miss lunch.”

“Right! Er, ta!”

Mallory tilted his head as Grisham scuttled off. “Do we know which minister he reports to?”

“I haven’t bothered to find out. All he’s getting is misinformation and lies.”

Mallory snorted. “You’d think they’d know better than to try to spy on professional spies.”

“Or at least offer a challenge,” Q sniffed. “Right, you’re clear. Long session today, yes?”

Mallory smiled tightly. “That’s my intention. I’d like to finish today, if at all possible. Tanner said he’d be by in a couple of hours, and then you’re joining us later, if I remember correctly.”

Q nodded. “After work hours. Easier going in and out without as much of an audience.”

“I’ve been impressed by your distractions.” Mallory laughed. “Quite the creative selection. I did not expect a horde of rogue robotic squirrels.”

Q smirked. “Nobody expected them. That was rather the point.”

Mallory’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Indeed.”

He was forced to deploy the squirrel pack again when Tanner showed up that afternoon. The squirrels were programmed for evasion and curiously resistant to their remote controls, and Q grinned as his minions took to the chase with good humour, breaking into teams and working together to trap the things.

He almost failed to notice Grisham creeping in the direction Tanner had gone. Q scowled and went after him, catching up just as Grisham raised his phone to take a picture of Tanner disappearing through the concealed door.

Q grabbed a taser from a nearby workbench and jabbed Grisham with it, catching the man as he fell so he didn’t hit his head. His phone went crunch underfoot in a very satisfactory manner. After making sure Grisham was safely unconscious, Q swept the contents of the workbench onto the floor as if Grisham had fallen against it and called for help.

“No, I’ve no idea what happened,” he explained to those who responded. “Just happened to look over and see him.”

R gave him a severe look as Grisham was carefully lifted onto a stretcher and carried off toward medical. “We’ll have to ask him once he’s awake, I suppose.”

Q nudged the taser on the floor with the toe of his shoe. “Doubt that will help. Tasers generally induce short term memory loss.” He met her skeptical gaze with an innocent look. “If that’s what happened to him. Clumsy sod, I’d say.”

“Indeed,” she drawled.

Q gathered up the remains of Grisham’s phone and brought it back to his desk to run a wipe on the memory chips. “There goes your not-so-promising career in espionage,” he muttered in satisfaction as he hacked into the man’s cloud storage account to check for files and photos there, and to go through his contacts.

At the end of the work day, he deftly evaded the last few Q branch stragglers and made his way to the hidden entrance. He checked his cameras one last time and then slipped through, sighing as the door slid shut behind him safely.

Inside, the room was large with a high ceiling and worn wooden floors. As it was an interior room, buried deep within the building, there were no windows, but Q had set up multiple flat computer screens on all four sides as if they were massive floor-to-ceiling openings to the outside world.Each wall currently showed a different “live” outside view.

Clusters of furniture dotted the room here and there, chosen more for comfort than style, and shelving or storage cabinets took up the wall space that wasn’t faux window. Dozens of plants flourished in pots or hanging baskets.

Mallory, wearing a stained artist’s smock, was standing before a view of some formal garden. He was painting with his oils, a serene look of concentration on his face as he hummed along to some bouncy 80s pop song* Q didn’t immediately recognize. The painting, destined for Mallory’s office, did look nearly finished though Q knew it would take some time to fully cure.

Tanner joined in on the chorus for a few lines from his side of the big room. His watercolor of the colorful tropical marketplace that bustled past his “window” was nearly finished as well. One of a series, it was bright and cheerful, and Q planned to beg for the set for his own office walls.

He flopped onto an overstuffed sofa and stretched out with a sigh. “We could fire Grisham for...”

“No shop talk in the executive sanctuary,” Tanner said, pouring a few drops of water onto his mixing tray. “Rule #2.”

Mallory snorted. “Only superseded in importance by Rule #1 – the agents mustn’t even _suspect_ that this place exists or we’ll never have any peace.”

“Yes, yes.” Q rolled his eyes. “And Corollary #1a – Q branch minions are far too susceptible to certain agents’ charm, so they can’t know either. Honestly, this was far easier when the main entrance was in executive territory. The Q branch door was only ever meant to be an emergency exit.”

“Yes, well, nobody expected the old goat to actually _light up_ one of his horrible cigars and set off the fire suppression system.” Mallory smirked and Tanner chuckled wickedly. A budgetary oversight committee might be an inevitability in their government, but nobody needed to put up with a gleeful one.

Q watched them paint for awhile before he pulled out his drawing tablet and stylus. The next episode of his webcomic was bubbling in his head and he was proud that he’d been able to keep to a posting schedule for the last few months. A calm agent-free space was a sanctuary indeed. He smiled with affection at the little robot that trundled up with an automatically brewed cup of tea and turned to his layout.

**Author's Note:**

> * “Dead Man’s Party” by Oingo Boingo. Just because. 
> 
> Seriously, [ go listen to it](https://youtu.be/iypUpv9xelg) and then _imagine_ the adorable little absent-minded dance wiggle Mallory would do as he sang under his breath.


End file.
